


Mug Shot

by elijahking (orphan_account)



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking Games, Drugs mention, First Kiss, Fluff, Other, POV First Person, Rambling, admitting feelings, confession of love, hella fluff, ish, like this is some dank fluff here, main storyline spoilers, sidequest spoilers, sole survivor is hilarious and swears too much, sort of, u love john and ERRYONE KNOWS IT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 20:08:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5839270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/elijahking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I just wanted one night. One night with no Raiders, no Super Mutants, no mole rats or bloatflies or whatever manner of creature the Commonwealth decides to throw at me for no god damn reason other than radiation is a thing now.<br/>So I have that night. I gather up a few friends, I chill out, we have a drinking game (which, everyone is thankful that Cait doesn't partake but still adds to the fun). It's all good and great. Then the game turns to Piper and well. She makes things interesting.</p><p>Subtitled: Intervention [Because Michael insists]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mug Shot

**Author's Note:**

> the title is like four different puns for me i l OVE IT I'M SO SMART get it? mug? face? mug? cup? shot? picture? shot? alcohol? i'm so fuckin creative 
> 
> ye the first thing i write in a fucking month and it's fallout shit what's wrong with me??? where's all my undertale stuff what happened ? fun fact i'm still in cell block A, population: writer. but. BUT! i've been watching fallout 4 videos like NON STOP since i got to play some in PA with my good buddy pal friend o mine michael he's the COOLEST anyway
> 
> so i love hancock. and he's a total sweetie. like u think he's tough? naw man he's so pure it hurts. enjoy this. 
> 
> written sort of like a personal diary entry on a terminal or something, if you can imagine that. so there's kind of a lot of rambling. rated M for language, drinking, and drug use

I've seen a lot of shit. Probably too much. Now if I had a duplicate of me (probably do, with the Institute being what it is), that duplicate would be a sarcastic dick and say something along the lines of, "Wow! You must work in sewage, huh?" and I'd tell them to stuff it.

 

I've seen giant mole rats, mosquitoes the size of a small car, giant scorpions - I mean, what the hell, did scorpions LIVE this far up north before the war? - and godforsaken Deathclaws lord grant me mercy those things are TERRIFYING. I've also seen what could only be described as literal Hulks. Big, green, radiation-pumped humans called Super Mutants. I've seen cannibals, had terrifying visions and I've even gone into a cave that was ripped right out of an H.P. Lovecraft novel. I am never going in there again, holy shit, I never knew that an innocent looking quarry could be so... ugh, it gives me the shivers.

 

To anyone reading this: if you come upon the Dunwich Borers, turn right the fuck back around.

 

So yeah. I've seen some shit. After all the things I've been through, you'd think you'd get used to it all. But you don't get used to it, you just don't, okay? It's one surprise after another. And you know what the biggest surprise of it all? Aside from the fact that I'm addressing a vague 'you' that would piss off English teachers everywhere? Falling in love with a mother. Fucking. Ghoul.

 

Now, I know, it's crazy, but... I just don't know. After seeing my spouse get shot and my baby literally torn from their arms, I went into this weird... revenge-seeking state of mind. Of course I still miss them, but I had to move on. I had to find my baby. I still haven't. The Institute is still a bit of a mystery to us, but I need a break. I just wanted one night.  One night with no Raiders, no Super Mutants, no mole rats or bloatflies or whatever manner of creature the Commonwealth decides to throw at me for no god damn reason other than radiation is a thing now. So I have that night. I gather up a few friends, I chill out, we have a drinking game (which, everyone is thankful that Cait doesn't partake but still adds to the fun). It's all good and great. Then the game turns to Piper and well. She makes things interesting.

Let me start at the beginning. For some reason about...eight? Months ago? I don't know, time is a mystery to me now, and the only way I keep track is with my handy dandy Pip Boy. I went to Goodneighbor with my buddy Nick Valentine, now Nick, he's a real stand-up guy and really wanted to help me find Shaun. Something in Goodneighbor was gonna help us out with that. But we get in there, about to OH RIGHT WE WERE GOING TO THE MEMORY DEN anyway we were about to head on through the town when this fuckface tries to solicit me and sell me 'insurance'. I tell him to fuck off or he'd get a gun shoved so far up his ass he'd bring a whole new meaning to the term iron stomach. Guy gets pissy when out of the shadows of the buildings behind him comes this guy, raspy voice and looking like literal beef jerky. Mother fucking ghoul comes up into this show trying to calm the heat. Turns out to be the mayor of Goodneighbor, a one mister John Hancock.

 

Is that his real name? I'll never know. There's an entirely different story behind that, though. Anyway, Hancock comes up and just straight up stabs this jackhole and I'm floored. Killed him in broad daylight, so I stutter out a thank you, John tips his hat and leaves. After that, I go around town, talk to a few of his people, get to know the place, see one of his speeches, and I gotta say, I like this guy's ideals! Goodneighbor, where anyone can live the life they want without question. A safe space. Sounds kind of like what I always dreamed of.

I ended up doing a few jobs for him. Pickman Gallery, creepy fuckin place good lord, taking care of Sinjin’s gang. He seems to trust me. Later on, I find some work with this lady ghoul, Bobbi, and she's throwing a heist! Says we're gonna rob the mayor of Diamond City, which... well, he's not that great either but whatever, I just DESPERATELY needed caps at the time. Spent a bit too much on a nice lil weapon but that’s beside the point. Turns out, after mudding through mirelurk territory, she's trying to rip Hancock off. I'm like what the heck, lady, what's wrong with you? So, ah, she bit the bullet, if you get what I'm aiming at.

 

It was honestly devastating. I felt like total shit but you know what? You know what happened? _Hancock was cool with it that's what happened_. He seemed a little... resigned, at the loss of someone he thought he trusted, but one huff of Jet and he was back on his feet again. Guy's got a thing for chems, which I find a little off-putting to this day, but more on that later. So he feels kind of shitty, feels like he's losing his touch and wants to see the outside world.

 

So I invited him to travel with me. This was the first mistake of many going down the line of many other mistakes that led me to realizing how head over heels I was for him. Okay, they aren't really mistakes, I apologize. John, if you're reading this, please don't EVER think that I think it was a mistake falling for you. You know how I am. Falling for you was the greatest thing to happen to me in all my 200 years on this Earth.

 

...That was a bit of a joke there, see, because I spent most of it frozen. Anyway...

 

We go on all sorts of adventures. Hancock seems to have no issue with killing his own kin, because, as he puts it, "they've all gone batshit crazy." So killing ferals isn't a problem. He got some nasty looks along the way. I remember the first time that someone said a snide remark on the aside about him and I was about ready to punch them in the gut. But he held me back and with a charming smile, he told me to let it go. He was used to it. Just because he was used to it doesn't make it right.

 

And it only got worse from there. Any time anyone got defensive when they saw him crossing over the horizon made my gut clench in a really sick way. He's a ghoul, I get it, but you don't see ghouls wearing gaudy get-ups like him. Most ghouls wear the most basic of clothing or sometimes, nothing at all. Plus, they come screaming at you, claws out. Hancock? Sort of saunters. He's got this lazy gait when he's not running to keep up with me, and I think that's from the chems, but it's alluring. The kind of guy you can approach. His blackened sclera hold a mystery akin to the night sky, which, as we all know, I love.

 

I think it all really hit me one night. It was clear. We were over by Graygarden, setting up camp for the night on the overpass. It overlooked pretty much the entire Commonwealth, city and wastes together, sprawled before us under the moonless sky. I’m almost thankful, in these times, for the lack of light pollution clouding our skies, because I could see stars for ages. I kept my back to the fire, I remember distinctly, chewing on my skewer of mole rat meat (John’s not a half bad chef) and staring in awe at it all. John nearly scared the shit out of me, coming up beside me being all, ‘hey, what’re you lookin all starry-eyed for?’

I think he still has a bruise from that remark. For timeline references, this was probably about two months after first seeing him murder a guy. Maybe three. I’ve been shot in the head a lot, okay? Don’t expect me to keep things too straight. So I go on and tell him all this, point out a few of my favorite constellations and he’s just sitting there, smiling and listening so kindly and patiently. Then he starts asking questions, because he never really knew anything about space, and “why the fuck didn’t anyone nuke the moon? Let’s nuke the moon,” happened. Why would you nuke the moon, John? Why?? I think he was probably high. But still, it made me laugh. And he still makes me laugh. He’s funny. He’s kind and caring and just… so… sweet. I’m deviating now. So I look to him after calming down from a little laughing fit, he’s smiling, I’m smiling, we’re both smiling and I feel like I just got hit by a shotgun to the gut. The dying flames flicker in his eyes and all I can think of is _this man has the universe inside of him._

When you get all cheesy poetry bullcrap like that, you know. You just know. And I sort of blurted this out at him, not those exact words, but something along the lines of “Your eyes look like the stars” and it COULD have been the fire, but I’m pretty sure he actually blushed at that. Judging by his sputtering, embarrassed response, he probably was. Under my breath I muttered how cute that was.

Soon enough, he was telling me about how he got the role of mayor and took on the name of John Hancock. It was tragic and I felt pretty bad for him, watching all that go down. Nothing he could have really done, though. I gave him a bit of comfort but we still had a little laugh about how the clothes ‘talked’ to him. It was for the good of the people. And what he continued to do was for the good of the people. Of the people, for the people. His tagline. I find it motivating and captivating.

It just kept building up, you know? Noticing little things about him, trying not to stare too hard or too long at him. I felt like a teenager all over again. At some point, I realized that my infatuation was becoming a danger to us. So I told him that I had other things to do, and he acted like big ol tough mayor, gotta do his thing, gotta run a city anyway. At the time, I didn’t see it, but looking back, I realize he was sad about it. But I was getting us halfway killed.

So I travelled with Piper a bit, helped her newspaper, rescued Cait and cured her addiction, and solved some mysteries with Nick. It was a good time, but it didn’t last long. I felt myself longing to be around him again.

I set up home on Spectacle Island, because man this place is sweet! Island home hell yeah. And so, I invited my friends to live with me, live here, when we weren’t out fighting baddies or trying to get into the Institute. I am THIS close from getting a Courser chip. Seems like they all get along pretty well. I’ve kept from telling Preston and Paladin Danse about this place because Preston’s busy with all the settlements and Danse is _kiiiiind_ of an asshole to Synths, and I like Nick too much to hear them being passive aggressive every damn day to each other.

Everyone’s working towards a better cause. Of the people, for the people.

…

Anyway. I set up home on Spectacle Island and decided that I’d go talk to Hancock again. I got all kinds of smirks walking into his office. I go up to him.

“Hancock, you old fart, you spreading rumors about me again?”

“Hah! Again? More like I never stopped.” And his wicked grin is what hit me again. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Heh. Guess you miss me so much, you can’t stop talking about me, huh?”

“Eh, something like that. You’re notorious already. Sole survivor of a vault, hitting up all the factions with everything you got… Your name gets whispered on the wind nowadays.”

“Nothing but good from you, though, right? I’d hope.”

“Always. Now, what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was hoping you’d want to get on the road again. I’ve travelled with a few other folk, but none of them as witty and wild as you.”

“Huh. Interesting proposition. Not one I can say no to. I’m in.”

That… was three months ago. He and I helped settlement upon settlement and got all the info I needed along with the others to help me find that damn Courser chip and get me into the Institute. Brotherhood and I are on decent terms and are helping me into there, but, that’s later. This is now.

Sort of. I’m still building up the story here.

Lots of talking and trading and a night in Diamond City and he told me a few things I didn’t even know. He was the only one who really saw how screwed up things were and couldn’t pretend things were fine. Until he met me, he said. Ooh, isn’t that just twisting the knife in my gut? I felt heat rising to my face. He stood up for those who couldn’t do it themselves. And that he was happy to have me as a friend.

The option popped into my head to flirt with him. “And that’s what we are? Friends?” I didn’t even realize that I’d said it till I looked up and saw his face. Jaw agape, creases in his cheeks twitching up into a smile.

“Well, now that you mention it…”

I couldn’t handle that, wow. I spent a whole day inside a tub filled with ice water because it was too much. Man actually likes me? Impure thoughts? What the gosh diddly darn heckaroonie. I really am a teenager. At the time, nothing came of it. We just kept on our way. A little more flirtatious than I expected, his sweet side showing big time.

It seemed to work a little better. Our gears turned in synch and we were blasting down baddies to no end. But I have a mission to get to, and the story of how exactly the culmination of everything I’ve seen and done still did not make me prepared for any of this.

So the other night, I pop my head into Cait’s room.

“Cait!”

She yelps and jumps damn near out of her chair. “Whaddya want, ya sneaky bastard?” Of course, she said it in the most loving of ways.

“I think I need a break. I want a night, just with everybody, to hang out. You know. Before I head to the Institute. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me there… and I want one last night with you all, just in case, you know?”

“Well, aren’t you bein’ all sweet on us?” She smirked, brushing a strand of her gorgeous red hair behind her ear. “Whatcha got planned?”

“You don’t have to participate, of course, but I wanted to have a few drinks, eat, be merry.” I shrugged. “I just wanted more to let you know there’d be alcohol involved.”

“Ah, I ain’t bothered too much by that, it’s the hard drugs that get me all mad. Speakin’ o’ which, you ought to talk to that boyfriend o’ yers. I can smell the Jet on ‘im when I pass by!”

“B-boyfriend?!” I sputtered. “Are you talking about John? We’re not – I’m not - !”

“Oh, please, anybody with eyes can see that ‘cher head o’er heels for ‘im. But seriously, he does one huffa that crap and I’m outta there.”

“A-aye, aye, captain,” I mumbled. “He’s been getting a lot better. Trying to get clean, kinda like you, y’know? Just in his own way… AND HE IS NOT MY BOYFRIEND.”

“Whatever ya say, sweetheart. Tell Piper to break out the good bourbon, this one’ll be one for the books,” Cait said with a wink. Something was up her sleeve for this, I just knew. She and Piper were always devious lil shits. They’re almost like sisters.

I wonder how Piper’s little sister is doing, anyway…

Nick had come along too, but all he could do is sit around and laugh and smoke. Does he even have lungs? The world may never know. Probably just a muscle memory thing from when he did have lungs. But man, they set it up all nice-nice for me. Another night under the stars, right on the beach, couple of chairs set up around a cooking station and a table, and… a couch. John had set himself up to be relaxing on it and the other three chairs were occupied.

Nick was in on it too. Bastards. I grumbled and sat on the opposite end of it, noticing they had dragged it out from the house. I’m still cleaning sand out from between the cushions. Not nice. So we get to drinking and eating. We each threw something in the pot for a big old stew. Turned out pretty nice. Shared some with the other settlers, who also ended up in on the fun. Why not? It was my night off from fighting. I gazed to the moon, the big, bright, beautiful, hungry moon. I took a sip of my beer and pointed to it.

“Why don’t we nuke the moon, huh, John?” It was sort of a mumble, since he had scootched a bit closer to me. He sputtered a laugh, doubling over, and I sat there grinning ear to ear at our little inside joke. His laugh rose above the chatter and got a suspicious eyebrow raise from Nick. True to Cait’s word, though, Piper was halfway into a bottle of bourbon and poking someone with a stick. Cait was nursing a water. We were all pretty glad about that. The road to recovery is a long one, and she’s stuck strong to it.

“So hey, I got an idea,” a settler said. I remember back in high school, my English teacher had us do six word stories. These six words would have gotten, at the time, an F, but upon revising it, I give them an A+. Because this led to the drinking game of the century. I swear, I thought I was the teenager, but it seems like alcohol turned the entire settlement into a big silly group of them. It was basically a truth or dare game combined with never-have-I-ever combined with spin the bottle combined with it was really weird I don’t even remember half of it. I do, however, remember at one point lobbing grenades into the water to see how big of an explosion they’d make.

Big. Very big. Nick, with all his computer-y junk, analyzed it and told us to fuck off, he can’t do that shit. So no prizes were awarded for that little competition. Some jerry-rigging and it landed on Piper to command the group.

“Alright, alright,” she slurred, head rolling on her neck loosely, someone please cut her off, I thought, “So th’ last person t-to have had to take a shot – Hancock, yeah?” A few murmurs of agreement. “Y’ gotta tell th’ group a story none a us ha’ heard.”

“Aaah, ‘cause we all love a tall tale. Why not, I’m feeling buzzed enough.” He stepped out of the seat, leaving me feeling a bit lonely, but a few people clapped and the man loves telling a story. “This, ladies and gentlemen, is the story of how I became a ghoul. It’s a little sad, so buckle up.

I gotta give thanks to this guy, right over here,” he pointed to me, “they’ve helped me realize. Most a my life to this point, I’ve been running out on the good things I got. I skipped out on my family… I used to have a life in Diamond City, before, you know, that ass of a mayor came along. Took up with them just to get outta Goodneighbor!” Silence now had fallen over the small crowd. He could really capture attention well. His words slurred and strung together, but he wasn’t too drunk, just enough to let truth fly between the teeth. “Hell, running from myself is what turned me into… into a damn ghoul. But being here with you,” he was speaking directly to me now, “for the first time in my life, things have just felt… right. And running? It’s the furthest thing from my mind. I mean, I left Goodneighbor thinkin’ I was just gonna sharpen up the ol’ killer instinct. But whether it be fate, or destiny or just god damn coincidence, I ended up with someone like you.”

I was sobering, and sobering fast. I needed to remember this. Little did I know, ol’ Mister Valentine was recording this on a holotape for me. How sweet. I should get him some flowers sometime.

“I turned one of the nastiest settlements in the Commonwealth into a refuge for the lost. I thought I’d done something I could hang my hat on. But being out here with you, it’s made me realize just how small time I’d been thinking. I mean, look at this!” He spat out a laugh, sprawling his arms out wide and embracing the night. He was gesturing to it all. The people. The island. The Commonwealth. The world. “Maybe all my running, from my life, myself… maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.”

“Running from yourself, eh? What do you mean?” Nick’s voice popped up. Okay that was rude honestly, I wanted to be the one to ask him.

“I know just what yer talkin’ about, Hancock,” Cait added.

“Yeah, and gotta say girly, we’re all real proud of ya for the progress you’ve made. I’m on the same path as you… whether you realize it or not. And Nick, well, I mean, I didn’t always look this good. The drug that did this to me, that made me a ghoul? I knew what it was going to do. I just couldn’t stand looking at the bastard I saw in the mirror anymore.”

I felt that. Hard. I couldn’t help, after the vault incident, but to blame myself for everything that happened. I changed my hair, changed my face, got some sun and scars but underneath it all, I was still the same person. Just looking in the mirror, my eyes still sang me, me, me. The blood I’ve spilled still sat wet in the coppery brown irises of mine. You can’t run from who you are, John. But I get you. It can hurt. And sometimes, changing how you see yourself can help.

“If I took it,” he continued, “I’d never have to look at him again. I could put all that behind me. I’d be free. Didn’t seem like a choice at all. Turns out… it was just me, running from something else.”

Waves hit the sand in the silence after that. It seemed like it was time for someone to say something, but no one spoke. I glanced quickly to the faces around me. Heartbreak. Recognition. Embarrassment. Even one that fell asleep, but you can’t entertain them all. Seems like everyone felt a little bit of that story.

“…It doesn’t matter what you did,” I finally broke the silence, albeit in a whisper. “All that matters is what you do from here on out.”

“Heh. I know a lot of bookies that’d disagree with you. But I feel what you’re getting at. But lemmie get to the point. Throwing in with you is the best decision I’ve ever made.” That got a few aww’s. I remember seeing my other companions smirking like absolute dorks, John himself… Never seen his face that bright a red. “It’s like I found a part of myself I never realized was missing… which happens sometimes when you’re a ghoul.” And then laughter. Always making me laugh, John. “If I hadn’t taken up with you, I’d probably be in a gutter somewhere, getting gnawed on by Radroaches.”

“Oooookay,” Piper finally interrupted, “I think this love fest is over.” I can hear her giggling being the last of the recording.

But there’s more to it. John got a little commendation on his bravery and he sat back next to me, looking, well, sad. He probably didn’t want to remember that much, but alcohol makes for a loose tongue. Or did he purposely mean for everyone to hear that basically declaration of love?

“You have been one hell of a friend,” he said when he sat down.

“Did you ever think that you two are more than just friends?” NICHOLAS VALENTINE I thank you I was originally mad at you about that but now?

“Nick, I swear to god, one more word out of that voice box of yours and I’m going to disassemble you in your sleep!” I snapped, embarrassed.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t wish anyone I cared for waking up to this mug every morning. Rather they wake up to a mug of joe.”

“That is very confusing,” said Joe.

Another round of laughter. From all but me. Sure, he was taking that all kinds of easy but me? No. I had had enough.

“Who I fall for is my decision,” I nearly shouted, cutting the laughter short. “And I…”

Thinking about him made my heart flutter. Hell of a shot. Hell of a fighter. Hell of a guy. The stars in his eyes. Impure thoughts that made my toes curl and refuse to uncurl and bite my lip hard enough to draw blood.

“…have fallen…”

He’s kind. He’s strong. He’s damn handsome, inside, outside. Pocketed with scars. I don’t care. I’m more than damaged, and he still loves me. Damaged and I have all these horrible (great) friends who care enough to want to see me finally happy with him. Anyone with eyes could have seen it. All of my fears, my toughness, it all just drained out of me. I was suddenly weak, but strong. I could admit this. We’d been working towards the same goal. Liberation, security. Of the people, for the people.

“…For you.”

I remember silence.

“Wouldn’t expect that kind of lapse in judgement from you. But I guess that works out for me then, doesn’t it?” And a cheer rung out. I remember being startled enough to fall sideways into him, into his arms and the moment is so crystal clear. People hootin and hollerin and drinking and saying, “finally, finally!” “Moments like this, I know all that karma stuff is bull. Because no one like me should be this lucky.”

The word ‘what’ kept falling out of my mouth until he sealed it with a kiss. It was awkward and shocking and tasted like beer and grape mentats and honestly could have gone a lot better. But it happened. I got my night off. I got my man. And I got a lot of grudges to hold against everyone there, in a joking way, of course.

This morning, I got to wake up to his mug. Heh. Odd way of putting it. After all those shots leading up to a grand finale, I didn’t expect this picture to come into reality. His slumbering face, eyes creased at the corners from a smile indicating a good dream. A soft, smooth bald head and behind him on the table, his signature tricorner hat. Blanket pulled up to his bare shoulders, and my own.

It’s a dream, honestly. Best mug shot a guy could take was in that very moment, and I’ve drilled it into my head. I think about it over and over again. I come off as this funny, sarcastic, kind of overly dramatic person with a swearing problem but deep down I’m a sucker for romance. Travelling with the one I love and the others I care for is so much more than I could have asked for.

I came out into this wasteland looking for my son. To avenge my partner. Not to see monsters and mayhem and wander out to ground zero in a suit of Power Armor with a synthetic man and fall in love with a radiation dried human who fit into the ghoul facet. But it happened. Life has a way of pulling that kind of shit without any care of how you feel about it. You get no input into any of it.

John’s getting better. Him and Cait have been trading secrets to recovery. Piper’s chronologging my steps in her newspaper. Nick is… being Nick. There’s always a job for him to do. Dogmeat retired to his house up in Sanctuary with Preston and some other Minutemen.

I’m always full of surprises, apparently. Not much left for me other than to get a Courser, smash its head in, and find my son. I have a job to do.

Sole Survivor out.

**Author's Note:**

> shit this ended up a lot longer than i thought it would UH sorry about that and sorry it got kinda lackluster at the end but i stayed up too late writing this   
> heya howdy if you like my writing maybe hmu on tumblr at asrielking  
> i have an art blog where i drew BOTH hancock and mister valentine, melancholicontentment


End file.
